


With Liberation We Become The Bow and Arrow

by CardboarianNights



Series: Bow and Arrow [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Both of them die at the end of the first chapter, M/M, Soul Mate AU, Symbolism, a bittersweet soulmate AU, alternative history war story, but it's a gentle passage into the afterlife for them, but lots of warmth and fluff, death warning, finding comfort in death with another, he loses both of his legs, he's sewn up, in terms of technology, it's kind of like an alternative wwI, mentioning of torture but not in detail, no blood or gore, no violent death for either of them, post-amputation for Jack, sharing a 'last dinner' together, soul mate au where you are destined to kill/die when you meet your other half, that death warning is legit, the Republic's view on the 'soul mate' propaganda is different than the Imperial one, there's an afterlife in this fic, very subtle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 08:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11551167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CardboarianNights/pseuds/CardboarianNights
Summary: The mark on Jack’s arm burned from the center of his palm and all the way to his chest as he laid back for a rare moment of respite up in the church bell tower. He knew if he rolled up his heavy winter jacket sleeve that he would see the three thick black lines neatly zigzagging outwards from the center of his palm all the way to the black owl skull tattoo he willingly had inked over his heart. His mother and grandfather despised the ink work Jack paid for to get the tattoo and he understood why it hurt them so dearly when the lines from his palm were only halfway down his forearm that day when he got it. It was his destiny to die and the tattoo was extra salt in the wounds of his loved ones who pitied his fate from the day of his birth but loved him unconditionally regardless.Aka 'Soul Mate AU where you're destined to die when you meet your other half'





	With Liberation We Become The Bow and Arrow

The mark on Jack’s arm burned from the center of his palm and all the way to his chest as he laid back for a rare moment of respite up in the church bell tower. He knew if he rolled up his heavy winter jacket sleeve that he would see the three thick black lines neatly zigzagging outwards from the center of his palm all the way to the black owl skull tattoo he willingly had inked over his heart. His mother and grandfather despised the ink work Jack paid for to get the tattoo and he understood why it hurt them so dearly when the lines from his palm were only halfway down his forearm that day when he got it. It was his destiny to die and the tattoo was extra salt in the wounds of his loved ones who pitied his fate from the day of his birth but loved him unconditionally regardless.

With his bolt action rifle resting against his shoulder as he laid back low in the small box, stretching out his stiff legs and opening up one of resealable bags of hard tacks. He ignored the dull throbbing of pain from his chest and the ones coming from the remains of his legs - stepped on a landmine but survived that and the double amputation afterwards, his stubs sewn up since he wasn't going to die just yet. The hardtack was enough to keep his stomach somewhat filled regardless of the horribly dull taste and chipped molars. He had an amazing sending off feast by his family and close friends that hadn't been sent off to war before he, himself, left so he couldn't really complain. Jack had made peace with himself and those he loved before he stepped foot off the train that took him to the front line.

The consistent dull throb in his chest was the result of his soul mate marker, the black lines from his palm running along his skin until they dug inside of him to wrap around his heart - marking the countdown to his death as the man fated to die together with him was closing in. The only reason he knew about the whole ‘lines on the heart’ thing was because the military does autopsies on fallen pairs on the battlefield, and black hearts were what the end result of the ritual the heavens placed on a few hundred souls from their birth to their inevitable death. 

Jack wasn't going to die before his destined time but even with that guarantee of ‘extra time’ he was in a lot of pain regardless of the care package his unit left with him when they placed him up at the top of the tower. He has no more morphine and his hands shake from pain when he aims down the scope, laying down on his stomach on the stacked sacks filled with some kind of grain and blankets wrapped around him that they found in town.

‘Respite’ was a lie though. 

Jack spent his last bullet with tears rolling down his cheeks and his body in so much pain as he prayed that he would kill his soulmate nice and clean with it. No such luck. No sweet embrace of death just yet for him as he brings a shaky hand up to draw a jagged line into the wood of the box next to the rest of his tallies - kill number twenty-six since he was set up in his kill box. Not a bad number to end on considering the state of his body and mind at the end stages of his ‘conditional immortality’. Faust and Sieg, Jack’s friends in his unit, would have gotten him stupidly plastered in a bar if they were around to witness the many Republic soldiers’ bodies littering the streets that were all due to his efforts to be useful for the Empire before he died.

It made him remember how long it took his friends to leave after they kissed his cheeks and forehead after making sure he would be comfortable up in the bell tower. The front line was being pushed back and they couldn't take him any further after their captain ordered him to guard the town by himself so he could cover their retreat and meet his soul mate. Jack’s heart hurt for completely different reasons as he realized that he really was going to die. His chest heaving heavily with regret as he looked at everything around him and how shitty the end of his life was compared to the romanticized ‘duel to the death’ the government shoved down his throat as the only kid from his village who was marked for death. 

There was no glorious battle with the Lord watching over him as he fought valiantly until he could drive his knife into his soul mate's chest. He was abandoned on the frontline during a retreat because it would simply be prolonging his death and putting the rest of the unit at risk while his soul mate continued to search for them. Jack wasn't going to survive the war and everything that was done the moment he stepped on that landmine was to make his mangled body as comfortable as possible and allow him to take several enemies down with him before he actually died. He wasn’t a person who would bring his family name glory but an immortal soldier that was easily injured as a normal soldier but would live despite injuries and blood loss.

He wished he could kiss his grandparents and siblings once more. Had more strength to return the kisses to his friends’ faces instead of reserving it for a shot that would not fall his soul mate but a random Republic soldier. Tears streamed painfully down his face as he trembled from pain that strangled him slowly and a death that was taking its sweet time to come.

Jack jumped as he heard masculine voices talking from below the opening of the ladder, the sound carrying all the way up to him when he went days without hearing from another human being. He strained his ears downwards, trying to make out the language they were speaking in. The long useage of ‘O’s and the rolling of the ‘R’s made it very apparent that it wasn't the town residents wandering about in the calm or his own military pushing back against the Republic. If they were Republic soldiers then he could only hope they would respect the rules of handling marked soldiers and leave him alone after sufficiently disarming him. 

The voices continued to chat as Jack heard something like vehicles crunching the snow in the town when they drove near. It was bad news if a platoon was moving in to set up artillery or something here because his chances of being discovered would sky rocket. Yes, having more enemy soldiers around increased the likelihood of his soul mate finding him due to their bond but the odds of being tortured were higher if he was discovered by a bunch of dicks bored out of their minds. Being able to survive anything meant he could be a literal chew toy for their dogs to entertain them or something.

Jack balled up in fear for what had to be an hour or so as the soldiers in the town set up shop, no one coming up the ladder to check out the bell tower regardless of all their dead soldiers around that would imply that there was an enemy sniper around. The sun was going down and Jack could hear them piling wood, likely for a fire since it got cold at night here. He was fine with the number of blankets he had on and his winter gear also keeping him warm regardless of how nice the luxury of a fire would be. Jack felt tired from being on alert for several hours, dreading the worst until he smelled something delicious in the air like soup or meat. His stomach hurt from the tempting smells but it was just another pain Jack had to cope with as he curled up in the corner to rest his eyes for a bit. No one was coming up now and there was a comforting warmth starting to ease him into relaxation - his soul markers no longer throbbing as much.

\--

“Oo’rro stavioor?” A smooth, masculine voice spoke to Jack as something gently shook his shoulder and roused him slowly from his sleep. 

Jack felt heat coming from a fire nearby as it crackled. He was still under his blankets but the side of his body was propped up against something soft. There was a lot of foreign conversations being held casually around him along with the distinct sound of utensils clacking against bowls and the occasional sniffle from the cold - the sounds of a unit at the camp fire. 

He opened his eyes slowly and saw the fire that was keeping his exposed face warm in the dark winter night. It was a sight for sore eyes to see such a sight again and he was tempted to drift back off if it wasn't for his pillow lightly pushing his head away when he went to place it back down. Jack sat up the best he could now, eyes wide open as several men broke out laughing at his shocked expression when he realized the pillow was actually the shoulder of a Republic soldier. His eyes darted in horror as he realized he was surrounded by a company of the black winter coats he had been killing over the past few days and almost toppled over as his instinct to run was cut short by his lack of legs. An arm caught Jack around the waist before he could fall into the fire and pulled him back to safety against his coat once more.

“Woah! Woah! Tornoodo! Blurroo scaatchaa?” The comforting voice from earlier laughed in his foreign tongue, gently patting Jack’s side through his heavy coat like a friend would do. He had no idea why he kept an enemy soldier from falling into the fire he deserved to burn in for killing his fellow soldiers but Jack felt the fear in his body melt away when he looked at the man and felt his constant pain subside for but a moment. 

His soul mate was smiling at him. His beautiful and very handsome soul mate that was supposed to run a dagger through him on their judgement day was smiling so warm and tenderly at him. The fire showing him warm brown eyes and several scars cutting through his still very pretty face along with a well-groomed blackbeard. A bowl with a thick broth, bits of chicken and an assortment of thick slices of vegetables in it along with a spoon was offered to him from the man’s gloved hands and Jack instantly took it from his hands to start scarfing it down, something the other Republic soldiers in front of the fire found hilarious. Jack didn't care about it being poisoned or if there was a rat or bug in it, he would toss such objects out to continue to devour his otherwise delicious last meal. It certainly beat having hard tack in him before he knocked on death’s door.

A hand rubbed Jack’s lower back through his coat as he ate the filling soup and Jack felt his mark warm pleasantly at that. There wasn't anything foul in the soup so far as he got half way through it while his mate talked lively with other members of his unit. The men were in a very jovial mood and talking happily in their native tongue with Jack picking up words like ‘Imperial’ and ‘God’ in their heavily accented language but his curiosity on the topics they discussed was buried in his throat since their languages were nothing alike. Sometimes they would gesture in Jack’s direction when saying ‘Imperial’ but it never seemed to be in an angry or pitiful manner that would raise some red flags on his impending torture sessions being on the horizon.

His mate liked using sweeping body language to exaggerate the way he spoke, unintentionally helping Jack understand some of the words like when the Republic soldier raised his arms and temporarily took his hand off Jack’s back to make the gesture. He made it seem like he was holding an invisible rifle and peering through its scope before putting the hand back on Jack’s lower back to support him, likely bragging about a shot he took or something. Jack wanted to know more of the context of the conversations where his mate would get fired up and draw in his unit’s attention before making those gestures with his hands. Was he a good shot or just a guy who liked to brag about more morbid things like intentionally shooting the hands off Imperial soldiers like Jack? 

A half eaten bowl of soup was exchanged with Jack’s empty one by his mate, the man smilingly reassuringly and patting Jack’s back to encourage him to eat more. Jack obliged, grateful to eat more of the soup as he dug right back in again while one of the soldiers got up from where they were sitting and pulled out a cigar tin from their satchel to present that and a lighter to Jack’s mate. The group was now eerily quiet as the Republic soldier seemed moved by the offer, taking his hand off Jack to take the presented items with much care. Jack continued to eat slowly as he watched his mate open the case to pluck a rather expensive looking cigar from the case before closing it then passing it back to the soldier that offered it to him. The soldiers looked displeased at that action but the soldier took the case back regardless without a word as Jack’s soul mate lit the cigar and finally passed the lighter back to its original owner so the man could sit back down.

The mood was heavily dampened as the Republic soldier put his hand gently back on Jack’s back, using his other hand to hold the cigar as he indulged in the flavor while the sniffles in the background became more frequent. Jack frowned as he understood what was going on - they were doing their own send off for him like Jack’s unit did several days ago. This was his last cigar before death and he was taking his time to enjoy the taste and feeling of the rich tobacco in his lungs. Maybe that’s why the man was very insistent on Jack eating and sitting with them at the fire, to let him partake in such an intimate affair before they would both die. 

The cigar was passed to Jack after he finished his bowl, the exchange being seamless even though Jack didn’t like to smoke. He understood kindness when he see’s it and he wasn’t going to let his distaste of tobacco mar their positive interactions thus far. Jack took a slow hit of the cigar, resisting the urge to cough it all out as he smoothly passed the cigar back to the Republic soldier next to him. His eyes watered and his throat irritated from the smoke but he slowly let the earthy-tasting smoke pass back out through his nose to not offend anyone. His mate gently patted him on the back approvingly as he took another long draw of the cigar before Jack started coughing right after, knowing it would be fine to do so and the Republic soldiers around the fire chuckling fondly at his fit.

“Gabriel.” Jack’s soul mate suddenly spoke as a stream of smoke curled out and upwards into the air from his lips. “Gabriel Reyes.”

“Jack.” He replied with a smile as he founded his chest to cease his coughing fit. “Jack Morrison.”

Gabriel smiled in turn, the ash falling from his cigar as he flicked the end over the snow. Jack found it nice that Gabriel was going out of his way for a more graceful approach for their inevitable deaths. A nice warm meal at a fire surrounded by the man’s unit even while it was obvious that both Jack and Gabriel being together meant that Jack’s life was now actively fading away. His wounds probably infected from the lack of changing the bandages and disinfecting them along with a host of complications that would have killed a normal man but didn’t for him until this point. 

Jack was leaning more heavily against Gabriel’s shoulders as he felt more tired than ever before, even with the warm soup in his belly. His eyes growing heavy before he heard the hiss of the cigar being put out into the snow and the conversation around the fire stop completely. All the men getting up with Gabriel as Jack was scooped up into his arms and they headed back into the church. The altar was already cleared out when Jack’s men set him up in the tower but now there were two cots laid out side by side under the watchful eyes of a Maria carving embedded into the wall between to large, stained glass window, a baby Christ in her arms as she gazes down towards him. Candles were likely found somewhere in the church and lit around the cots and lighting a path towards the altar the corner of the benches facing the aisle. 

It was beautiful as Gabriel carried him towards the altar in a procession for their joint wakes and funerals Gabriel’s unit would be the only witnesses to. Jack brought his hand up and weakly reached into his jacket to make sure his dog tags were still in place, relieved when he grasped the chained metal. He hoped the Republic military would send his body back to Jack’s fatherland to be buried but wouldn’t mind being buried here, outside of the church Gabriel and himself would die in - buried side by side like other fated pairs on the battlefield. Maybe his dogtags would reach his family? He wish he could ask as he clutched them in his hands as he was carefully slipped into his cot on the floor and watched as Gabriel pulled the cot blanket over Jack’s body before laying the ones that fell off him while being transported to here from the fire.

Gabriel made sure he was tucked in snug and then kneeled down to whisper a long prayer in his native tongue to Jack before pressing his lips to Jack’s forehead. It was comforting as he felt the Republic soldier hold the kiss for a long while, before taking the hat off his head to slip it onto Jack’s head. The fur lining of the hat feeling so warm and comfortable regardless if Jack was a dirty and greasy mess with blood matted into his blonde hair. He laid his head back on the thin pillow and watched as best as he could as Gabriel approached his unit, the joint snap of boots on the wooden floors echo as they went into a salute for him. 

There were no words exchanged as a lone pair of boots snapped crisply on the floor, Gabriel likely returning the salute to his men before he turned on his heels to approach the cot beside Jack. One of the soldiers broke from the formation after Gabriel took off his boots and slipped into the cot beside Jack. Gabriel closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, likely ready for the death that was going to come to them before a hand hesitantly reached out for Jack’s as The soldier kneeled down on the ground next to him. The soldier had a cross on his uniform as he laid a fabric lined box on the floor with the same symbol on it before unlocking the case and opening it. Jack smiled weakly as tears rolled down his cheeks, pushing his hand through the layers of blankets to meet Gabriel’s hand in between their cots. 

The medic then pulled out a vial with a opaque white fluid in it along with a needle, making it obvious how much the unit adored Gabriel if they were going to waste precious opioids in an active war to humanely euthanize them both. Gabriel wanted to die first and pull Jack down with him through their bond when Jack expected a bullet be blown through his head - cheap and clean.

Jack heard the sniffles and choked sobs of the men in the background but merely watched the medic fill the needle with the liquid before tapping on the glass to make sure their were no air bubbles out of professional habit. Gabriel’s other arm was then taken out of the blanket and the medic used alcohol wipes to sterilize the area before Gabriel turned his head to look at Jack.

“Jack.”

“Hm…?” He replied, feeling his body becoming heavier and his eyelids harder to keep open.

“‘Egt ti o libn archtun eu Lord.’” Gabriel murmured in a tongue foreign to both of them but the line a famous mantra for any fated pair. ‘With liberation we become the bow and arrow’.

Jack sniffled and nodded his head in agreement with that. Gabriel smiling warmly as the man’s eyes slowly closed, struggling to watch Jack until his last moment before Jack’s own exhaustion took him. Their hands held tightly together until their body’s gave their last breath and humankind was punished once more by the Lord without ever learning its lesson.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for sticking through the story. Please leave your thoughts and feedback on it.
> 
> I'm hoping to write a sequel to this where we go to the afterlife or wherever Jack and Gabe go to and see how their relationship progresses after their deaths.
> 
> They were buried side by side beside the church and Jack's dog tags did make it home. Which side won the war is irrelevant.


End file.
